


Lion In A Cage

by Nebulad



Series: Bold & Golden [3]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst?, F/M, Other, fluff?, little of both., plague years, pre-game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-06
Updated: 2017-12-06
Packaged: 2019-02-11 04:17:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12927273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nebulad/pseuds/Nebulad
Summary: “I don’t suppose you could do anything that would placate him, Asra?” Nadia asked. He was normally so hesitant to involve himself in the direct care of the Count, but perhaps an exception could be made for an overworked companion.“I could make him so angry that he trips and falls down the stairs,” he offered, his tone leaving it ambiguous as to whether or not he was joking.Ana, from her place on their laps, took a deep breath and brought herself up to her elbows. “I’ll go,” she said, wiping the sleep from her eyes.





	Lion In A Cage

Ana slept in Asra’s lap while Nadia absently ran her hand along her legs. Julian had disappeared off into the Count’s room with a plaintive little frown; Lucio had no tender feelings for him like he did the mage, and so the check-up would become a game of dodgeball as soon as the Count lost his patience. Ana was really the best suited to tend to him, but she couldn’t run a twenty-four hour shift every day.

“It almost makes you want him to get better, seeing her like this,” Asra hummed.

“Almost,” Nadia agreed, her lip curling. Ana would certainly prefer if Lucio were to wake up tomorrow hale and whole again, complaining of having to stay in bed for a moment longer than he wanted to; quite frankly, and the three were agreed in this, Nadia didn’t care if he woke up dead. She might’ve even preferred it, once she got over the initial shock of it all.

Asra seemed to read her mind, as always. He looked down at his fellow mage— a different sort, though, less talented at seeing the future as she was at bending reality— pity warring with that cold fury that was becoming so familiar. “Not quite though,” he mused. “I think she’d get over it.”

“We would all have to, eventually.” He’d hate to hear it but _god,_ would it be nice to have the chance to move on. So long as he was alive, she was bloody well stuck in Vesuvia with about as much power as your average courtier. Anything she ruled, Lucio could and frequently would immediately overturn— out of spite, vanity, anger, or any other idiotic mixture of pettiness and boredom.

Julian reappeared in the doorway, tense as a rabbit. “I, ah… I was told my services would not be needed so long as there was someone more useful around,” he bit, as diplomatically as he could given the situation. His place was in his books now that Lucio had decided magic would save him; normally it was a relief to not be expected to be at the Count’s beck and call, but more than a little insulting to have his skills trivialized in the face of magic.

Asra’s gaze at the carpet turned dark. “Did you mention that she was asleep for the first time in seventeen straight hours?”

“I did, as a matter of fact. He responded with some colourful threats and anatomically unlikely suggestions.” And with that the doctor threw himself back on the bed behind Nadia and Asra, shutting his eyes and groaning quietly. “We could just leave him there to fuss until he falls asleep. It’s what I recommend with nasty newborns.”

“Unfortunately he retains the ability to walk,” Nadia responded before she could evaluate the implication of it. What did it matter, though, among those of a like mind? “I don’t suppose you could do anything that would placate him, Asra?” she asked. He was normally so hesitant to involve himself in the direct care of the Count, but perhaps an exception could be made for an overworked companion.

“I could make him so angry that he trips and falls down the stairs,” he offered, his tone leaving it ambiguous as to whether or not he was joking.

Ana, from her place on their laps, took a deep breath and brought herself up to her elbows. “I’ll go,” she said, wiping the sleep from her eyes. Nadia wondered idly how much she’d heard of their… unflattering discussion.

“You need sleep,” Julian offered, staring up at the ceiling instead of at her. There was some level of guilt, Nadia understood— Ana took the longest vigils by his bedside, and while it was fair to say that she volunteered for them… the wear was obvious.

“I’ll get it,” she said with a shrug, getting to her feet. Asra let her go, but his eyes had that same dark quality that they got whenever he was angry at Lucio.

“You don’t have to keep doing this,” he said, not making eye contact. Ana shrugged, straightening the wispy tunic Nadia had bought for her. It was the peak of summer— even she couldn’t pretend as if her heavy clothes were comfortable anymore, and so she’d finally given in and gotten herself a summer wardrobe.

“I don’t do it because I have to.” And there was the guilt again— not repentance for not caring to babysit Lucio on his deathbed, but knowledge that Ana took the most shifts because she understood that they all loathed him. For some reason she seemed fond of Lucio— she had been before he got sick, and somehow hadn’t yet been driven off by his infuriating, petulant behaviour. Suffice it to say that she’d taken to learning her fair share about the plague out of necessity.

“Call if you need us, dear,” she said, taking Asra’s hand and patting it gently. Ana nodded and left the room, and Asra lied back on the doctor’s stomach. Nadia soon joined him, and they sat in silence together, the unspoken wait for Ana to return and lie back down beginning.

. . . . .

“What took so long?” Lucio asked without even rolling over to see who’d come in.

“I was asleep,” she answered, making a beeline for the side of the bed he wasn’t on. The others were concerned, but they didn’t necessarily have to be. Half of what kept her up was fear that when she opened her eyes again, Lucio would be gone. She… knew she was just about the only one with such concerns, and she couldn’t begrudge the others for it. Lucio took a nearly infinite amount of patience even before the plague.

He rolled to wrap his arms around her— they were safe, so long as there was no fluid exchanged— and sighed against her neck. “Sleep here,” he muttered, his voice a cross between irritable that she hadn’t already thought of it and needy. She turned and closed her eyes, pulling his head against the crook of her neck and running her fingers through his dishevelled yellow hair.

“Do you need anything before I’m out?” she murmured, already a little too far gone to indulge him.

“Keep holding me,” he muttered, almost like he wasn’t listening to himself. He wasn’t usually so… vulnerable, even around her. He did so like to pretend that he was some sort of untouchable hero, unaffected and indifferent in the face of all things.

She smiled where he couldn’t see it. “My pleasure.”

“It’s so quiet,” he groused. “I hate it when it’s quiet. It’s like being locked in a tomb.” She hummed agreeably, using the hand against the back of his neck to create a the sound of a storm outside. He liked the wildness of lightning, and never slept so well as when she was ducked against his chest trying to count away the thunder. Embarrassing, but if it helped then she’d indulge him. She would always, always give him whatever he liked.

“Better?” she whispered.

“It’d be better if I wasn’t half dead.” She hoped he didn’t notice how she stiffened before running her hand down his arm.

“You, love? Never.”

“Don’t patronize me,” he snapped, then took a deep breath. “Just… not you, Ana. I can only take so fucking much. Are those insufferable clowns helping you?”

“Julian and Asra are indispensable, love, I promise.” As time marched along he became less and less confident in his research team— rightly _her_ research team. “Asra made you that sleeping draught—”

He scowled and she remembered a little too late how he’d complained that the potion had made him feel groggy and numb. Asra had very coldly informed him that if he was asleep it hardly mattered, and it’d sent the Count into a fit. “It hardly cured my fucking plague, did it?”

“No,” she agreed mildly. “Julian is working on that, though. He’s very good at setting schedules and routines to manage your symptoms—” And wrong again, because he lifted himself weakly on his elbow. He hadn’t had the sharp golden plates on his arm in months, but she kept them cleaned and nearby; just so he didn’t lose hope.

“I don’t want my symptoms _managed,_ I want them _gone._ I’m tired of being sick and weak and _pathetic,_ Ana, I want it to be over now!” God she never thought she’d long for Lucio when he was deep in denial about his illness, tossing teacups at the wall to feel the satisfaction of breaking something. Even teacups were a little beyond his throwing arm now.

“We’re working on it,” she said firmly, guiding him back down to lay on her. He went, partially because he didn’t have the strength to keep stubbornly holding himself up. “Now let’s just both sleep, please?” She traced her finger down his chest and he sighed, deflating.

“You sleep. I can’t stomach it.” He was sulking, but not because of her so she was satisfied enough. As subtly as possible, she ducked so she was laying on his chest— supporting her own weight, of course, it was hard enough for him to breathe— and smiled.

“So you’ll keep me safe?” she said, half teasing. She heard the echo of a laugh and resisted the urge to pump her fist.

“I’d like to see them try to get past me.” And with hand pressed against the small of her back, she settled down and, _finally,_ slept.

**Author's Note:**

> [Writing blog here,](http://nebulaad.tumblr.com) [game here](https://nebulous.itch.io/manor-hill) (newly updated!), and finally [commissions post here](http://nebulaad.tumblr.com/post/162182264019/writing-commissions).
> 
> That does it for the links so let us briefly return to the "I still feel kind of bad for him because I don't have any moral qualms about fictional murder, he's dying, and he's good looking" hour. Julian is harder to write for because I don't know what's going on in the paid scenes and Lucio's personality is bad so I have free reign to do what I want with it. I wish I was more interested in Asra, his route has cute shit going on while I piss around (although to be fair 90% of the cute shit is again, behind the paywall so...). I tried to strike even with "Lucio is a petulant asshole and no one has to like him" and "Ana does anyway".
> 
> Also for those of you just joining me, I'm making an itchio game. It's a dating sim which probably shouldn't surprise you considering you're reading my fic about a different dating sim. That's the game link above anyway, and the site is more than safe and playing doesn't require any sort of download. It's just an html text adventure and I'd love feedback. On that and this.


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